


Monster Underneath

by AriesFortune



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M, Young Eren, Young Levi, monsters under the bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-07-26 12:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7574515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriesFortune/pseuds/AriesFortune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That which goes bump in the night; the house that aches and moans once the darkness blankets the corridors and rooms; and the words that shift the world.</p><p>"Are you sleeping?"</p><p>"There's nothing there."</p><p>Or: Eren is the young monster under Levi’s bed, attempting to make his first scare. Levi, a young boy of 7, makes a choice that he hopefully will not regret. Even monsters can be scared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first time posting on AO3, so I'm not used to using this site at all. Still new to writing these characters, but had this idea in my head & thought it'd be fun. Originally posted on my tumblr acct: colaseine. :) Please, be kind.
> 
> I wanted this to be read as if it were initially from the POV of the child in bed, so it may have been confusing. To clarify: the POV is that of the young monster (Eren) under the bed as he watches Levi (the child). It is Eren’s first attempt at scaring a child, at teasing out fear from the young human in order to begin the process of stealing the child himself– or his soul, whichever he prefers/needs. Levi is about 7? And, he’s talking to Mikasa who is sleeping in her own bed, though they share a room. :D Yup. The more you know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first time posting on AO3, so I'm not used to using this site at all. Still new to writing these characters, but had this idea in my head & thought it'd be fun. Originally posted on my tumblr acct: colaseine. :) Please, be kind.
> 
> I wanted this to be read as if it were initially from the POV of the child in bed, so it may have been confusing. To clarify: the POV is that of the young monster (Eren) under the bed as he watches Levi (the child). It is Eren’s first attempt at scaring a child, at teasing out fear from the young human in order to begin the process of stealing the child himself– or his soul, whichever he prefers/needs. Levi is about 7? And, he’s talking to Mikasa who is sleeping in her own bed, though they share a room. :D Yup. The more you know.

Light was absent from the windows, technology put to sleep so black screens reflected furniture empty of its owners, except for the beds where the families and others rested. Yet the house was awake with small, whispering sounds, the scuff and creak of floor boards, the hushed breath of air that muted the deep breaths of the sleeping occupants, except for the occasional unfortunate being.

Children, it was usually the youngest of the households that were bothered by the noises. Another scurry and rustle of fabric had me peeking out, blinking owlishly into the dimly lit bedroom. Objects that looked like toys but could have been anything were scattered around the floor of the room, appearing menacingly sharp and unearthly in the faint glow of the light plugged into the wall by the door. It was so far away, so tiny, the golden circle could not even reach the foot of my small bed. Somewhere in the house, a groan had me looking side to side, nervously, eyeing the bedroom door as if expecting it to creak open.

“Hey..”

I turned my head, tilted as I waited for a response.

“Are you sleeping?”

I could hear the wood of the bed slats creak as a weight shifted, but no other sounds. I held my breath, counted as I listened for the breathing. Steady, deep– there would be no response.

Leaning on my forearms, I sat up cautiously, barely lifting my head from where it had rested, wide eyes glancing towards a flutter of shadows in the peripherals of my left. Nothing moved. Just darkness. I narrowed my eyes, squinting; daring for something to move again. Nothing did. Until I turned my head again, no longer staring directly at the spot. Just like always.

“There’s nothing there. It’s just my imagination.”

The small hairs at the nape of my neck rose, heart pounding heavily against my ribcage. My mouth felt dry, but I had to do this. I could not spend another night hiding, cowering in the darkness. My senses were straining to catch sight, to hear, to smell something that might otherwise make me duck under– to safety. How many nights had I spent like this now? I swallowed, fingers curling into my palms as I clenched trembling hands into small fists. Too many. No more.

A shuddering inhale, slow shaky exhale, “No regrets.”

I glanced to the bedroom door once more, gauging the distance from bed to door as best as I could. It wasn’t a far distance by any means, several steps that somehow seemed to span the width of a canyon in the dim light on the bedroom. Now, would it be better to do it slow? Or to simply be done with a leap and quickness? Another creak in the room sent a shiver down my spine, my body quivering with nerves. Though my head spun with half-formed plans of action, my body had made my decision for me.

When two pale feet were firmly planted on the floor, I paused in hesitation, overwhelmed by my need to make a choice. Now. Quick. One step, two steps. Just several more brisk steps and it would be over.

Third step.

Just as the fourth step was to be taken, I shoved out from hiding, one hand extended to grasp the lagging foot. But, the boy was quicker. He choked on a gasp, yanking his ankle away and turning to take a flying leap to his own bed. I could hear the sheets rustle, my eyes peering out from the bed sham to stare at the oblong mirror across the room. I could see the reflection of a bundle on the bed above me, the bright glow of a flashlight shining underneath the sheet. It was just as they said; hiding under the sheets was the default shelter for children.

Emboldened by my near success, I grinned into the darkness, sharp teeth gleaming predatory. I could see the small beings that made the house groan, the noises echo into the silence as they skitter to and fro mischievously from shadow to shadow. They were excited by the attempt, their energy peaked by the fragrance of fear that wafted from the child atop of my bed. Bringing my arm back under the bed, I watched the reflection with narrowed eyes, admired my own unnatural twin pinpoint emerald fires that marked my gaze.

I could do this.

The thought made me stretch my lithe body languidly, letting clawed hands slide out from the bed to scrape along the oak floorboards. Nothing deep, nothing lasting; those were the rules. I was too young still to tango with an adult, but I was old enough for a child; for this child. The quivering of the sheet calmed, made me pause in my minor celebration and I waited, curious.

“Think,” the boy whispered. “Think, Levi, think.”

The words made me tilt my head, uncertain on how to react. Was he talking to himself? I tapped a short curved claw on the wood bedpost, watching as the bundle jumped under the sheets, but otherwise did not react. I pressed my back against the bottom of the bed, using my strength to lift the bed just enough to startle the child once more. I could smell the fear, could see the boy’s jittery reaction every time I taunted him. But, each time, he calmed, more quickly than the last; until finally, he yanked the sheet from off his head.

The mess of ink-black strands cast askew by his makeshift fort of sheets made me grin, a snort huffed out as I stifled a laugh. The sound, the subtle movements of the bed sham with my movement made him finally look into the mirror where I knew he could see my glowing eyes. The other critters of the room seemed to be still as we all waited for the child’s next move. Maybe this was normal for children? No one could give me the answers I sought; not right now, but I would be sure to ask the others later.

“I knew you were there, monster,” the boy– Levi– spoke in a steady hush.

It was his quickness that had set the wheel of events into motion, his steadfastness to his choice that had me staring– caught– into the beam of light. Levi crouched on the floor beside the bed, flashlight turned towards the darkness beneath and dark eyes peering into my own. He was pale– naturally– but with fear as well, yet the thin furrowed brows and the narrow-eyed glare was almost convincing. “You will not scare me any more.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monster is real!  
> Or is it?  
> Wait- What is a monster?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Levi's POV  
> I struggled with this chapter. I have an idea where I want this story to go, so it's not lack of creative juice or planning. It's just.. this chapter had me stuck. I swear, I have like four versions of this chapter, written different ways from different POVs, and I could not be satisfied. I am still trying to get the characters right. Forgive me. _:(´□`」 ∠):_

 

 

 

It was the sweet low mumble of my name that drew my attention away from the creature. I turned, startled and wide-eyed, peeking over the mess of bedsheets atop my bed to the one several feet away. Mikasa turned in her sleep, shifting under the covers to turn her back to me-- or so I thought. I couldn't really tell in the darkness. She grew still once more, comforter lifting ever so slight with each breath.

In those few seconds when my heartbeat had felt suddenly and simultaneously too still and too rampant, I had taken my eyes off the monster. When I looked back, it was gone. I swung the beam of the flashlight to and fro, seeking the solitary shadow that would not be broken by the light. But, every shadow gave way; nothing seemed out of place. But, I knew what I had seen. It had been there. 

The monster was real.

That night, after I had crawled back under my covers, I found rest for the first time in days as strange as that might sound. I dreamed of monsters with green flames in their eyes, short claws that protruded from small fingers, and skin darker in shade than my own. Weighed down by armor, riding in a monster truck, engines roaring loud, I lifted my sword in the air and declared war on the monsters of the house. I could see the thick army of enemies standing at the crown of the hill like a black cloud, and their leader that emerged from the depths of that dark mass. I was ready to charge, revving forward in the gigantic four-wheeler, feeling my body sway and shake over the rough terrain-- sway and shake-- sway and shake--

"Levi, wake up!" Mikasa's familiar softspoken voice proclaimed.

 

* * *

 

For the next few days, I was certain that my encounter with the creature under my bed was real. Confident and concerned, I dutifully informed my aunt that I would protect Mikasa with my life. At which point, she smiled and thanked me for being brave and protecting my cousin. (And, she solemnly reminded me that if I ever needed help that I should ask, because not every battle can be won alone.) So, eager and anxious, I prepared. I prepared for each night, having convinced my aunt to replace the flashlight batteries, so that it would not fail me. I checked, then double-checked, that Mikasa's baseball bat was located snug against the nightstand between our beds. And, every night, I laid in bed awake and waited, long after my cousin's breaths became soft snores. 

The days passed, and nothing else had happened. The house was quiet except for the small noises, the ones that seemed normal enough. And, I, once again, could not sleep. I spent my nights, senses strained for any subtle noise, movement, feeling that something unnatural was happening around me. 

Nothing.

I began to doubt myself, to wonder if I really had just dreamed the whole thing. There was no proof after all. Nothing that I could show to anyone to prove that the monster did exist. I had checked many times for scratches, unusual hairs, bite marks-- anything. The only thing I had found was a small bottle, just the right size to fit in my hand. My aunt and uncle did not recognize it, and neither did I. Mikasa was only four, and despite how smart her parents claimed her to be, she was still just a baby-- she could not possibly know. I kept the bottle rolled up in one of my clean socks, tucked carefully inside the corner of my pillowcase. And, I continued to wait. Just over a week had passed, and my attention had shifted; the monster became a memory as summer came to a close.

Since that one night, I had not seen nor heard any odd noises from under my bed. And, though I could feel like odd lump of the rolled sock against my shoulder, my head was too full of thoughts of my soon-to-be first day at new school to be concerned about a possibly imaginary monster. I was just beginning to doze, my lids finally relenting under the heaviness of sleep, when I heard the familiar yet strange noises. The soft creak of the floorboards, the whispering scratches against wood and wallpaper, the hush of sounds that might have been mistaken for typical noises of an old house. 

But, I knew better. Awake with adrenaline, I held my breath as I saw shadows pitch black against the darkness of the room, moving just at the edge of my vision. I reached under the pillow slowly, careful in hopes that I would not be noticed, as I wrapped my fingers around the flashlight. My eyes strayed to the mirror across the room, searched the reflection until I saw it. The twin green flames that stared eerily from the gloom under the bed.

It wasn't my bed.

" _No_ ," I whispered, firm and horrified all at once. Still, almost choked on the word as fear clutched my throat, even as I grit my teeth in resolve. I gripped the flashlight, baseball bat forgotten in my panic, as I rolled to the floor, landing heavy on my arms and knees. Blinded by that biting cold fear, I reached out without thought of my actions and the consequences. My only thought was to stop this nightmare, to protect my family- my baby cousin- from the monster. The first touch was enough that I recoiled, not quite prepared for the sensation of soft, smooth heat. Did I touch its skin? Its fur? It didn't matter. I frowned, steeled myself for the next touch as I reached once more and gripped at whatever it was.

It yelped.

It said: "Ow!"

The voice was high-pitched, a blur between maybe a boy, maybe a girl. But, whichever it was, it sounded young. And, the noise it made: could it talk? The idea had never crossed my mind before. With my other hand, I flicked the flashlight and pointed, daring to glare once more into the eyes of the monster. Just as before, green fire glared back, though this time they were not wide with surprise. They were narrowed now, yet still large on the small face with its strange marks that shifted like a living painting as I stared. A hand no bigger than my own reached to block its face from the light, or to simply hide it; I was not sure. This time, it hissed, and I felt the strength behind the monster's tug as it attempted to wrench its arm away from my hold. 

But, I would not let go. I held firm and stared. This was the monster. I was touching it.

"Lemme go!" The voice snarled, the pitch only slightly affected by the gravel of frustration. It sounded more like a beast from my nightmare then; but, that wasn't what startled me. I gripped harder, terrified to let go, terrified to keep hold. The monster had spoken. 

"You _talk_."

For a moment, the green sparks faded, the marks bled away, until all that remained was the face of a young child that stared back, surprise and fear fitted so naturally upon it. The normal appearance- it looked like a kid!- frightened me the most. I yanked my hand away, feeling the cool air sting against my overly warm palm. The monster- child?- seemed to curl in on itself, wrapping the shadow that looked weirdly like a soft, thick blanket around its body snugly. We laid there, silent as we hovered over choices that needed to be made. It seemed unreal, even in that moment. The house itself felt as if it held its breath, waiting, eager for that next action. 

All at once, several things happened. The bed above my head creaked as weight shifted, Mikasa's muffled noise following the sound. That unnatural fire returned to life, seemed determined as it consumed the whole of the monster's eyes, and the swirl of marks that danced over tan skin returned with a vengeance, clawing away at the young face so that the skin seemed stripped from muscles and bones. Hands with black curved claws reached out, seeking. And, I yanked away quickly at the sounds and sights, grunting at the impact as I hit the back of my head on the bottom of the bed. This time, I watched as the shadow writhed under the pale beam of my flashlight, shifted and moved, then the monster melted into the floor.

Gone.

"Levi?" Like deja vu, Mikasa mumbled in her sleep. I knew she wouldn't remember talking, asking after me in her barely-woken state. But, I still answered, needed to voice what I saw.

"It's nothing." My voice trembled as I slowly, shakily, climbed into my bed, flashlight gripped tight in my hand. Tears clung to my vision as pain blossomed on the back of my head, but still, I lied to her. To myself, too. "There's nothing there."

But, she was already asleep, deaf to my weak reassurance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies! Again, sorry for young Levi's behavior if it seems OOC. I am trying my best. ಥ_ಥ As for my reference when it comes to children's behavior.. well, I have no clue how a 7 year old would act. It's probably glaringly obvious. I have some idea about kinder and pre-kinder age behavior.. but no clue beyond that. u_u Bear with me. We'll get through the painful childhood years soon enough.
> 
> Also, my goal is to be more frequent with updates.. really. I know you don't believe me right now. (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren POV  
> A look into the world on the other side.  
> And, a warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might not be as interesting. But, I felt the need to describe Eren's world. It's kind of bare-bones right now.. because..world building is tough. /sigh/ I am not worthy! Please continue to support me! Thanks to all that left comments, clicked & continued to read, gave kudos, etc. So grateful! ε=(｡♡ˇд ˇ♡｡）
> 
> Also, I didn't really proofread, so if you see mistakes, please let me know! Many thanks!

 

* * *

 

It had been twice. Two times that our eyes had met, a clash of grey and green and blue- the whites of wide eyes mirrored in each other's face. The second time that he had spoken, words directed with such resolve that I had seized until the inevitable 'fight or flight' instinct had taken over. It should have been a comfort that it was not unheard of for a child to address us; it was rare, but it did occasionally happen. At least, that is what Armin had told me.

Then-

I shuddered and sat upright abruptly, fought against the unseen stitches that tried to sew my cloak- and, therefore, me- to the twilight world of the interim. My hand rubbed over the same spot, a patch on my arm that felt as if a frigid cold had blossomed beneath my skin where a small hand had touched. There was nothing there, no bruise or scratch, no sign at all that I had been grasped by a human child- but I felt too conscious of the fact. I had been touched. That was not- well, it _did_ happen, Armin had said. Just rarely. And not recently. I had asked what happened, out of curiosity, and all I had heard, his voice dropped to a hush:

"-the Bogeyman-"

That word alone had been enough to silence us. It was the ever looming threat of a nightmare that we did not understand, but even our adults whispered in fear. The Bogeyman was not something we had ever seen or heard in person, but it was a danger none welcomed or understood.

I pulled the thick cloak tight around me, just as the ground rippled with many small movements, the prickly edges of tiny shadows dancing and skating upon the midnight surface, scattering the rainbow swirls of what could have been an immense oil slick. The dark spheres of thorns pressed at the plush material of the cloak, gathered at the edges of my body and piling themselves to my eye level. When they moved, it was to make some semblance of a face- eyes and a large mouth that moved with great exaggeration. 

_Eren. Eren._

_Little monster._

_Child._

It spoke, a series of overlapped hushed words that made the small hairs on my body rise at the creepy distortion of language. For a moment, the rules that had been engraved into memory floated to the surface of my thoughts: hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil. I had broken those golden rules many times in the interim; even now, as I stared at the 'evil', listened to its unspoken but heard words, and answered them in return.

_The child-!_

_The OTHER. Yes. Yes. That._

_-trouble._

_TROUBLE._

"No trouble," I argued, voice louder than I had intended. I flinched as the sharp onyx crystals of the shadows' singular mouth gleamed, the gaping hole of the mouth opened wide and shrank several times in quick succession. It laughed at me. The motion made me angry, heat flushed into my cheeks as I glared at them, but did not argue further. I had spoken many times to these creatures- neighbors, I called them- in my visits to the interim, but I still did not entirely trust them with my well-being. Though they often had encouraged me when I had first hesitated on my many trips to the bedrooms of children- greeted and cheered me with every small victory- some instinct told me to beware that which had been dubbed 'evil' by our adults.

_Danger._

_Surely._

_NO. DANGER._

_RETURN._

_Again._

_-fun?_

My lips pulled back to bare teeth as I sucked in air in a short, sharp inhale, the unnatural amber-gold of my eyes narrowed to slits at the amorphous creature with its mockery of a face. "You're no help. You can't even make up _your_ mind." I stood up then, felt taller as the neighbors dispersed into a carpet of singular ink-black burrs that parted as I sloshed through the shallow fluid that felt neither hot, cold nor wet. The rickety old gazebo was the only structure in sight of the expansive midnight realm, washed in a golden glow from an unknown source like a warm beacon for the wayworn traveler. I pulled myself onto its creaky wooden boards, and kept walking until I came to the edge on the other side- a mere journey of three steps. 

There sat the long narrow boat that waited on the other end, the flat end of an oar treading the surface back and forth from some unseen entity that could only be glimpsed from the edges of one's vision. I patted down the folds of the cloak, searching as I stepped onto the boat that stayed firm and steady under the extra weight. Finally, I found the old key, the gold barely visible under its tarnished appearance as I held it out in my palm. I felt rather than saw eyes that looked over the key, then the sensation left me and the boat glided forward. 

I shoved the key back into its pocket in the dark fabric, simultaneously wiped the sweat of my palm against the soft cloak. I sat as we drifted, feeling the eyes on my back that would not be there if I turned around. When the glow of the town came into sight, I could barely keep myself from leaping to my feet and bounding from the boat. I twisted my hands into the plush material until the boat came to a smooth halt at the edge of a half-broken bridge, an old ladder made of boards and rope dangled just above the fluid surface. I lurched towards the ladder, then paused and twisted to look back to the unknown neighbor that had shuttled me to town. I squinted until I could only just see through the thick lines of my own lashes, barely making out the shape of a tall skinny _thing_ that clutched at the oar, swirling the paddle in the small circles on the water's surface. 

"Thanks," my gratitude came in a soft, quick rush of breath as I bobbed my head in a short nod. 

Then, I grabbed for the ladder and climbed the several feet, feeling exhausted as I pulled myself onto the bridge. Though my chest heaved with effort, lungs burned with the need for more air, I choked and stopped breathing at the sight of the single lone figure that seemed to have awaited my return. The hood obscured its face, the lantern held high in an outstretched arm, and I felt the blood drain from my face. Oh shi-

"Eren?" The soft voice called, a free hand shoving the green hood away to reveal the thankfully familiar and safe face of my friend. The unnatural pale blue blended almost seamlessly into the whites of wide eyes before they had narrowed. The figure that had seemed to loom frighteningly at the end of the bridge marched towards me until it was standing before me, now a reasonable and more accurate several inches shorter. "We have to hurry back. Your father-"

"Armin!" I exhaled in relief, shoulders sagging forward as I relaxed. I opened my mouth, hands spread out to aid in my retelling of the night's events, when his words finally processed. Panic made my limbs move ahead of my own thoughts, leading the way across the bridge towards the brilliantly lit lanterns of the town ahead, as I squawked, "My father?!" Around us, the hustle and bustle of town had begun to grow quiet, the residents pulling themselves into their own respective homes and places, lanterns blown out one by one. With each light snuffed out, I felt my panic grow, my legs blessedly finding the strength to run as we rushed to our own homes. 

"You're late! What happened? Did something go-" Armin had tried to question, the sway of his light cast large eerie shadows over the old stones of the road as he struggled to stay close behind me. I lifted a hand, swatting away his questions, my body grown tired from all of the evening's exertion and excitement. 

"Later, Armin. I swear. Let's go home before we get in trouble," I called, just as we came to the bottom of the stairs that led up to our houses. Any further arguments were stalled as we kept our breath for the climb, passing under the twelve tall pillars that framed the steps in intervals until we finally alighted once more on flat ground. I risked a glance behind me, watching as the almost perfectly timed blackout edged close to the bottom of the steps that we had just used. "Hurry!"

We skidded in front of the large wooden doors in the walls surrounding our homes just as the lanterns in our neighborhood were huffed out. I waved with a half-turned look towards Armin just as he threw himself into the doors of his own gate, saw as he offered a quick wave in return before he shut the green doors. I had just shoved the bar into place on my own gate when I heard my name called for the third time that evening. 

"Eren." I exhaled slowly, before I turned to face the owner of that voice. 

"Father," I answered, eyes lifted to dare meet his own. My hands were clenched into tight, clammy fists at my sides, hidden thankfully by the thick swell of the cloak that clothed me. My spine was rigid as I prepared myself to accept whatever punishment awaited me, because I knew I had only just barely made it home in time.

The old man just stared at me, expression passive and thoughtful as he seemed to silently consider me in his usual way. He did not move towards me from his position at the doorway into the home, just gazed at me quietly. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, feeling sweat break on my skin under the silent pressure. Not for the first time, I wish I knew what he was thinking. Was I in that much trouble? How much trouble? 

Or worse, even.. _Did he know?_

The key, hidden safe in the cloak, felt as if it burned through material, heavy and hot against my hip as I tried not to melt under my father's gaze. The tension broke just before I did, the corners of his mouth quirked into a small smile that I could not understand. "Cutting it close, son," he admonished lightly as he stepped aside to let me pass. I relaxed with a heavy exhale, teeth flashed in a relieved grin as I walked into home. "I know you're curious, but try to abide by the rules, at least, hm?"

"I will! Sorry, and thanks, dad!" I affirmed, grateful for the minor scolding, even as guilt weighed heavy in the pit of my stomach while I rushed upstairs to my bedroom. "Gonna take a bath!"

"Well, best hurry before dawn breaks. The water should still be warm from when I heated it." I could hear him call behind me, his steps much slower as he managed the stairs to go to his own room. 

Grateful and sorry for my lies, I disappeared into the small bathroom, sagging against the door as soon as it shut behind me. It was nice to be home. Nicer still to be away from any further questions and conversations. I shed the cloak, letting it fall heavy in a pile to the floor as I climbed into the steaming wooden tub. My body was still not full grown so I could just about stretch my limbs comfortably in the round bath, sinking until my chin was just barely submerged in the water. In the quiet, all of the evening finally caught up to me, my body weighed heavy with the need to sleep. 

All I wanted in that moment was to rest, but the spot on my arm tingled still with the remains of a memory that seemed distant. It should not have been a big deal, really. A child touched me.. we can touch them, so who cared? But, it wasn't just the touch. The boy had seemed ready to fight me off. Surely that was not heard of. Not a child that wanted to fight and actually tried. I shuddered in the warm water, pushing myself out of the water to shake myself off, determined to rid myself of the chill that crept along my spine. Sleep was quick to find me when I finally crawled into bed, my last action to blow out the flame of small painted lantern outside my bedroom's round window.

 

* * *

 

Dusk would come as it always did. The chimes of the gliders would ring through the town as they floated over the buildings, sliding to a smooth descent upon the sea of soft golden-hued young grass that led past the horizon. The town would brighten with life, one candle, torch, lantern at a time, music drifting through the air as the marketplace filled with the bustle of buyers and sellers. 

But, I rose far before darkness could fall, the sun a giant red blob in the sky. The town still slept, the odd passengers that came from beyond still absent from the marketplaces and businesses. The lanterns hung as dull decorations over the streets. I bounded down the hill of steps, barely able to come to a halt before I almost collided into the waiting figure of my best friend. Armin waited with a lantern held at waist level, as he always did, his green hood casting shadows over his small face.

What would have normally been a smile that greeted me was replaced by a frown, golden brows drawn to the center of his forehead as he watched me. I grinned, reached for the lantern to raise it up higher as we walked through the town to the bridge. 

"I don't think we should go, Eren. It was too close last time," Armin began, as he always did. It was a routine, really. He was nervous, rightfully so. But, we had already done this much, gone this far- no point in stopping now. At least, that was what I told him.

By the time we reach the bridge, I have managed to convince him that everything will be alright. No one has found out so far, and so long as neither he nor I tell anyone... 

"Anyway, this was your idea, Armin!" We stopped at the lip of the suspended bridge, looked past the unfinished beams that stretched towards nothing and turned our attention towards the ink-black surface that mirrored the midnight sky. Settled down on the edge of the bridge, Armin retrieved his satchel with sandwiches and two jars of fresh water, placing it between us as we talked.

"I only showed you a book," he mumbled, exasperated, because as I said, this was not the first time we had this discussion.

"Not just _a_ book. You showed me a few books. About _humans_ ," I shot him an accusatory look. "You were excited and curious too. You should just come with me! It isn't as bad as our adults make it out to be."

"No, Eren," Armin removed his hood, golden hair rustled as he shook his head. "I really don't think we should do this anymore. We're not even supposed to be out before the lights." 

"Armin-"

"No, Eren. That's enough. Grandfather was worried last night."

"Armin!"

"No."

"Armin, no- listen! I went to that room again." That silenced my friend, his impossibly wide eyes turned the full force of their pale blues onto me.

"The one with the boy? _That saw you_?" His fingers quivered as I nodded. 

Smart as Armin was considered to be, I knew his head was full of many questions, the rules, the consequences for breaking the rules. I rested a hand over his own as they clutched the half-eaten sandwich, though my own trembled at the recall of that evening.

"What happened?" He whispered. And I told him everything; everything except for the neighbors that had seemed to simultaneously warn and encourage me. Armin did not know about those encounters with those burr-like creatures. A part of me felt guilty for not telling him, but a greater part warned me that if I told, my small friend would not be happy. There were few things that put Armin's curiosity to a halt- and the neighbors, the whole interim, was part of that list.

When I concluded my story, his face was like a small pale moon, the color having drained from his cheeks the longer he listened. He reached out, gripped the front of my thick cloak and pulled me down to eye level. "You cannot go back to that room."

I flinched, a nervous huff of laughter threading my breath as I attempted to pry his fingers away. My gaze slid away from his face, down to the boat that waited patiently for its passenger. "Not like I choose. You know that. I keep ending up there. The adults haven't exactly taught us how to pick our stops."

"Eren, listen, listen. If you get caught, and they find out-- something might happen. You can't go back! We have to stop!" As he spoke, his voice raised in pitch and volume, his fingers clung to my cloak. I frowned, annoyed by his sudden whining fear that only served to make goosebumps rise along skin. He was beginning to make me panic as well.

"I have to," I huffed, making my way to the swaying ladder. Before he could protest further, I snapped, angry at myself for the bubbling fear that made me shiver under the thick material of my garb. "I left something last time. I have to get it back."

A small noise like a whine echoed over head as Armin stood over me while I climbed down, "Then, go get it and come back."

"Okay," I repeated twice, hopping the last step onto the firm surface of the boat. Even now, I was amazed that it never rocked or swayed upon my arrival, no matter how rough my landing. I sat as the boat began to move, my hand patting at the outline of the key in a pocket as I began my journey. I could see Armin's lantern as he stood at the edge of the bridge, and in the distance, the lanterns of the town began to bloom.


End file.
